The vast wasteland stretched out for miles. It wasn`t a desert, but there was no greenery anywhere. It was if there had been a monumental battle fought here years ago, the scars and memories of death and blood forever left behind in the soil. The first men to come to this island, the way it is now, had named it "The Killing Field".

Barely visible, on the horizon, was a hulking grey tower, stretching up into the clouds. It was the tower of the Killing Field Tournament, a tournament held every three years in honor of the battle fought here decades aeons ago. Previously, there had only been cash awards offered, however, this year. . .

The tournament commitee, a group of 7 highly-skilled bounty hunters who first started the tournament 24 years ago, announced the prize only three months ago, after 400 competitors had already applied. From that moment until the day of the tournament, the entrees jumped by over a thousand.

But why? What item could possibly entice so many warriors into trying their skills in the most infamous tournament in the world, known for its grueling elimination rounds and anything-goes battles?

The name of this item as well as where it was excavated are both kept in the shadows. The faces of the commitee members themselves are kept hidden, so no one knows how or why this item was brought to public eye. But it is said, that this item is the key to opening the door to the "Space-Time Continuum", the crux of the universe. What lies in there. . .is anybody`s guess.

Gathered today are these 1400 contestants, each one of them risking their lives to get their hands on the item. Most have already arrived, whether it be by boat, airship, or their own wings. Colors and shapes of all sizes of creatures have made their prescence here, as well as battle-scared bounty hunters to young, plucky warriors.

The beach of the island was as plain as the island itself, there was no sea life to be seen anywhere. The crowd of 1400 was growing impatient under the glare of the hot sun, and some adventurous people had already run off into the desert, never to return again.

"Hey, what if someone already broke in and took the prize?" a short, scrawny man with a round hat and a small backpack shouted. He was unshaven and had long scraggly hair, and his eyes were sunken in. "This thing is really dangerous! Do you know how many people are after it?"

". . .they wouldn`t let that happen." Another man, with dark braided hair in a ponytail, answered. His brown skin glistened in the sun as it shined off his mirrored sunglasses. He was wearing a green tunic with a bow strapped to his back.

"You sure?" the man said. "I dunno. . ."

"If you`re so unsure, just leave." the sunglassed man muttered. "You shouldn`t risk your life for something if you`re not 100% devoted to it."

"Hmph." the man said, turning away. "You talk big, you know. . .I hear that members of the Dark Zodiac have even shown up here."

"Don`t be a fool!" a third person, this time, a hulking ogre wearing rusted armor shouted. Spittle flew from his mouth, and the large axe on his back shook as he slung his body towards the scrawny man. "If they were here, that tower would be no more. Stop talking, no one wants to listen to your trash!"

The scrawny man shrugged, as if he was used to people talking to him that way. But he was soon drawn back to staring at the enigma in the distance. "I wonder. . ."

"If I were you, I would spend less time 'wondering', and more time preparing yourself."

Standing behind the scrawny man was a drow in brown studded leather... at least at first glance he appeared to be. His black and white streaked hair and green eyes showed him to be only half drow, at the least. He currently had his arms crossed before his chest, the hilt of the large bastard sword on his back reflecting the bright sun.

"I'm sure your opponents could care less about your curiousity, or your life for that matter, if they seek the prize of this tournament. Watch yourself."

The half drow glanced up at the large tower, thinking to himself a moment. To have a structure that size for the tournament, obviously meant there would be more to this than simply 'beating' on opponents. He would need to be on guard. But more importantly, he needed to keep an eye out for other drow. He had another mission besides the tournament here...

The short fellow turned around, his sunken eyes now staring at the drow that had appeared before him. A smirk began to creep up his face, but he quirkly transformed it into a smile. "You seem to be quite experienced in such things." he said, extending his hand. "At least you have some sense of decency and tact, unlike the other brutes in this place." he extended a small but thick hand upwards. "The name is Jemyle Parkins. In case we see each other down the line. . .let`s make a truce." his eyes looked up, and his smile, while friendly, seemed misplaced on his rat-like face.

The two others who had been in this small circle, sunglasses and the ogre, turned around slowly, eager to see how this newcomer was going to follow their lead.

The half-drow looked curiously at Jemyle for a moment, before closing his eyes and smirking.

"A truce... in a contest where we will inevitably have to face one another. How amusing."

He opened his eyes, staring at the rat-faced man with a no nonsense look.

"If it serves my own interests, perhaps. Otherwise, you are simply another potential adversary. This is, afterall, a competition. I would not count on help from anyone, if you wish to make it very far. To do so, you are simply asking to have yourself betrayed."

The sound of a banjo being played. Or, more accurately, the sound of a banjo string breaking while it is being played. The four beings holding their conference on alliances and double crosses could not be more different than the sound of this carefree banjo being played (albiet, played badly.)

They say that opposites attract. Perhaps it was the totally opposite nature of the music and the conversation that caused it. Perhaps it was the had of some perverse diety. Perhaps it was just fate. But be it irony or destiny, something caused the broken string of that banjo to fly through the crowd and strike a certain half drow in the face, just as the word "underhanded" finished leaving his mouth.

A moment later, a moogle, on the large and burly side (for a moogle) came shouldering his way through the crowd. His brown pants and belt, knee and elbow pads, and headband were the only clothes he wore. But the ends of banjo strings that stuck out of his belt, as well as the banjo he held in one hand (its middle string conspicuously absent) gave a good clue as to where that banjo string had come from a moment ago.

From the way the moogle was examining the ground, it seemed fairly clear that the creature was looking for his lost string. A moment later, it spotted the string and scampered over to the group, completely ignoring them, and grabbed up the broken string, shoved it into a pocket, and then unceremoniously sat down and began fitting a new string onto his instrument.

The half-drow yelped in surprise and pain, immediately grabbing the bastard sword from his back in reflex and holding it before him. Something had struck his face... obviously non-fatal, if he was not already dead. Before it happened his ears had picked up... a... twang? Like a string from some instrument breaking off...

....

He glanced about, his eyes finally settling on the small moogle sitting before him. casually picking up the formerly airborn string and trying to restring his instrument.

"...for your sake... I hope that was an accident." the half-drow growled to the moogle.

Elsewhere on the beach, a man has his own spot cleared off in the hell-mell that is the contest. He has a studious air about him, and is clearly not someone who is usually outside in conditions like this. His spectacles sit solidly on his nose, and he looks through them as he reads his book ("A Treatise on the Chaos/Crisis Thread: A New World of Mana" by J. A. Strokoffsky).

". . .didn`t even tell me his name. . ." Jemyle muttered to himself, saying no more but still keeping his eyes on the two unusual characters who had just appeared.

The man in the sunglasses had relocated himself, but the ogre was standing in the same spot, looking around and seeming rather impatient.

"Hmph. . .that`s it! I`m going to head to the tower! For all we know, that`s where the tournament is going to begin! No use standing around with all these idiots!" He pulled the immense silver axe off his back and raised it to the sky, sweat falling off his body by the bucketloads, his grotesque fat jiggling with every word. "Anyone who is man enough to come with me, say it now! We`ll seige it even if there is no one to let us in! This is ridiculous!"

He began to shuffle his large body through the crowd, making his way to the front facing the tower. "Let`s go claim the prize!"

"Is that the mark? .... no" Theodarus Banjo thought to himself, walking through the crowd. Looking right and left, scanning the crowd for a now familiar face, he gave another sigh.

"This has better be worth the amount of money I paid to join." he told himself. Supposedly, the bounty was worth several hundred times the admission price for the contest, but if he isn't, Theodarus may have trouble with food (or the lack of it) within the month.

Walking towards another section of the beach, he finally spotted someone who might be the mark. Checking his equipment, he carefully approached the pale person wearing a blue duster coat and reading something about "Chaos Thread"...

Of course, the man doesn't appear to notice the approach of the scribe-like person. He's engrossed in his book.
This guy looks more like a schoolteacher than a fighter. Staring down at the text, he takes in the information with the skepticism and awe of the professional academian. After a moment, he turns the page.
He looks kind of funny, actually. As viciously out of place as the one who approaches him.

"No one`s man enough to join me?!" the ogre yelled, looking at the crowd with disgust. "So be it then. . .I will take this place down with my bare hands!"

And so, he began to march off into the vast wasteland. Just as he began walking, something started to come into view from the other end, which, about five minutes later, revealed itself to be a small carraige, pulled by one armored horse. Trailing behind it was a pint-size mage in checkered robes, his body entirely invisible, sitting upon a small floating orb.

The rider of the carraige revealed themselves to be a stout, gruff-looking woman with a face like stone and a large leather whip. She jumped off of the carraige, and stared at the crowd.

"Momo, please take care of our boisterous friend there." was the first thing she said.

The mage whizzed off towards the ogre, and soon there was a small puff of smoke, and all that remained was a small green lizard, which soon scampered off into the distance.

"Thanks." she muttered, her gaze still on the crowd of newcomers. "Anyway, we`re going to start the tournament now." she said. "However, there`s way more people than we expected. So we`re going to have to go through a preliminary round, and see how many weaklings we can filter out. . ." she scratched her head, as if none of this meant anything to her. "In any case, you guys have probably noticed the tower standing there in the distance. Well, there is no entrance at ground level. Which means that anyhone who already ran off there is probably dead right now. . .or a lizard." she snorted. "Alright, the way we`re going to get into the tower is. . .through the underground labyrinth that runs below this island."

A few people started whispering, and seconds later it turned into an uproar.

A tall, built man with wings and a beak shouted out. "You bitch!! You made us wait the whole day in the sun just go to through some stupid maze!? Take us to the tower!"

No one had any time to reply, as the man`s head, with a flick of the stone-faced woman`s hand, was suddenly broken and hanging to the side of his body. The body itself fell a few minutes later.

Some of the untrained eyes in the audience saw merely a blur, but others had seen what really happened. . .the woman had used her whip.

"Can we begin now, or does anyone else want to make more work for me?" she muttered. "Momo, please teleport our contestants."

Momo whizzed over and began enchanting the teleportation spell.

"By the way, you only have a half hour to get through the labyrinth, and then the door closes. If that happens to you, you will have to find your way off the island by yourselves. . .that is, if you can get out of the labyrinth alive. . .oh, and you`ll each be teleported to a random space in the labyrinth. One of you might even get teleported straight to the end. Have fun." she waved nonchalantly, and suddenly, everything flashed.

****

Zachary was placed in a small antechamber, which led to a large platform suspended over a dark pit. A long way above the pit was a small outcropping, which led to the only exit out of this circular room. The others, a couple hundred people, who were all teleported onto the large bridge-like platform, came to their sense and realized their problem, soon began fighting with themselves. Some men tried scrambling up the walls, only to fall to their deaths or be struck down by others. One lucky birdman flew up out of the crowd.

"Haha!!" he cackled, perching on the outcropping high above the melee. "You losers! Have fun finding your way out of this mess!"

Just as he said that, however, a glowing arrow flew from the crowd and stuck into the birdman`s back. Connected to the arrow was a metal rope. It began contracting, pulling a tall man with dark skin and braided hair in a ponytail upwards. The birdman`s body could not handle this heavy load, and he lost his footing from the platform and started to fall downwards. As the the two met at the same point in the sky, the man kicked off the birdman (who promptly fell to his doom) and managed to grab the platform. He swung his legs up briskly, and dissapeared down the passageway.

****

Adarl, however, had no sooner than 3 seconds to adapt to his surroundings, a small circular room with three seconds, before a man covered in silver armor began charging towards him with a spear. 2 seconds later and he would have been skewered, but suddenly, a large sword came and hacked off one of the spearman`s arms.

The owner of the blade was a tall, muscular man with wild blonde hair and a wild face. He was wearing what looked to be home-made armor, random plates of metal and leather strapped together in an alternatively fashionable style. He had an additional bastard sword strapped to his back, most likely a spare, but the one he was using now was not much different from Adarl`s own.

As he finishing slicing the man`s arm off (who began rolling on the ground in pain) he sheathed his sword, and turned to stare at Adarl. "Don`t ever leave your back open in a place like this. Just a suggestion." he pulled off a bloody glove with his teeth and extended his hand. "The name`s Saffron."

****

Fwupo found himself in a room full of holes. He began walking forward, getting used to his surroundings and adjusting his eyes in this much darker place, when suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back, and he was flung forward. He never realized who kicked him, but he soon began tumbling down a chute. About 1/4 of the way down, he managed to turn his body up to stare at the bottom, which, unlucky for him, was littered with spikes.

****

Theodarus was on a stairway. To the left of the stairway was a wall, but to the right was a large void. The stairway went upwards and downwards, but if he lost his footing, he would be thrown down into darkness. He looked up the spiral, and could see others trying to figure out where to go. He couldn`t see all the way to the top, but he started to see some men running downwards from that direction. Not to mention he heard a large booming sound. . .

****

At the end of the maze, a horridly obese man with five large packs strapped to his stomach sat looking at the door with glee. "Wahahaha!! I was teleported here! This is great!!" he rejoiced. "But wait. . .I should use this to my advantage. The fastest people who come here will definitely be the strongest ones. . .so I should be smart and take them out early." he unzipped the pack which was strapped to his right breast. "This should do nicely." he stuck his hand in, and brought out five large sticks of dynamite, and began strapping them up around the entrance.

"Ah-hem." a voice coughed. The fat man turned around in horror, much like a child would if he was caught with his hand in a cookie jar. "I don`t care if you kill other people. . ." the owner of a voice, a tall man with long, black hair, wearing a dark purple mantle, said. ". . .but if you make trouble for me, I will have to do something." his lips were thin and red, and his face was pale yet alluring. He had ice blue eyes, with tiny pupils that seemed like pinpoints.

"Hmph." the man said. "There`s just no reasoning with some people. . ." he moved forward.

"I mean it!" the fat man cried. "I`m joking here!"

"I believe you." the tall man said. The fat man, realizing his bluff was called, reached out with a fatty hand and grabbed the tall man`s collar. "Look, I don`t want to take any crap. I got teleported here, just let me go through! I won`t set any bombs, I promise, just do the same for me, don`t cause me any trouble, okay?!" he stared at the man, his eyes seeming to be pleading to be left alone.

"I don`t like it when people touch me." the tall man muttered, and suddenly, a large blade appeared out of the man`s collar. It lengthened itself, ripping up the fat man`s arm, and then dissapearing. What was left was two bloody chunks of flesh, swinging uselessly. The pack of dynamite fell to the ground. The fat man fell to the ground and backed up, his face warped in horror. He opened his mouth, and began screaming in pain.

The tall man frowned. "I don`t like it when people scream. . ." he muttered, and walked closer to the man. "Please stop."

The man scrambled back up against the wall, contuining his piercingly-high scream.

"Fine, then." He held his hand an inch away from the man`s face. A blade began to inch its way out from his palm, then suddenly rammed forward, straight through the man`s skull, and then dissapeared. No mark was left on the man`s hand.

The fat man`s body slumped to the side, a pool of blood appearing around the discarded dynamite.

"I don`t like loud people. . ." the man muttered, making his way out of the labyrinth.

Zachary doesn't seem even vaguely fazed by the fact that he is now underground. He closes his book, hides it in his duster, and maintains the small gap that he had previously.

"Well, isn't this something? I wonder how I'm supposed to get around a trap that involves me moving in directions that I shouldn't be able to move. I wonder... Well, it's worth a shot. Either that or I starve down here."

People noticing that he is talking to himself probably are wondering what he's thinking. He begins to wave his armored hands in the air, stopping for a moment to produce a small cylinder that extends into a staff. He then pauses and says a few more things to himself.

"Let's see... Angle of 70 degrees, looks to be fairly high up. Yes, I think I can do this. 15 thaums ought to work. If not, I'll still make it. Just a bit too high... oh well."
He continues to draw symbols in the air and also waves his hands absentmindedly over his staff. He then points his staff at the ground, yells in what could be anger or exertion, and then proceeds to ram the end to the ground with as much force as he can to try to shoot himself up at the outcropping of rock. Hopefully, if this works, he'll be a bit quicker than the unfortunate flyer who felt a need to brag instead of proceeding to his goal and will avoid being shot down.

(Burst of Force and Weight, used conjunctively, to try to launch Zachary at the outcropping, with some correction made so that if he doesn't do it right, he overshoots instead of undershoots.)

'AH DAMMIT!! My Mark!!" Theodarus shouted out into the void on the stairwell. He WAS so ClosE, and now the bounty can be anywhere in this dark, damp..... wherever this is.

(OOC:I'm assuming this is one of those "stairs wrapped around a pillar/pyramid" sort of thing?)

He looked around at the surroundings, at the stairs he is standing on. The void on the side suggests a long drop into nothing. "No wonder people coined the term 'bottomless pit' " he thought. "Well, I guess since the destination's a tower, up is better than down..."

Just as he put his first step upwards, he noticed some men above him starting to run downwards frantically. Not to mention he heard a large booming sound. An eyebrow raised, Theodarus thought on it for just a moment. "Better be safe than sorry. Whatever it is up there, it sounded really big."

Another saying drifted through his mind: "Preparation for the unknown wins battles." With that thought, he took out one of his self-inking brushs and started concentrating on it. All the while jogging downwards carefully enough not to fall....

(Jogs downwards (he does not have "run" in his dictionary) while charging up his first 10 seconds of "Word of Power")

Zachary`s calculations proved precise, as his body was thrown up skywards just high enough to make a leap onto the outcropping. Good thing, too, because as he did so, he noticed a rumble on the platform below. Earlier, an old, bald monk had been sitting on the floor, muttering something. Everyone had thought he had just lost his mind, so they had left him alone. He had, however, been the smartest one of the remaining mob. Around his neck were large blue orbs. One of them cracked, and a small glowing ball emitted and began to rest itself underneath him. A few moments later, it began to grow into a large, large mass. It grew, and grew, soon forming into an immense lizard-like beast, with four feet and a large, horned head. The old man stood up on the beast`s back. Anyone who had looked closely at him would have noticed that he was blind, but blind in a very odd manner. His eyelids themselves had been stitched shut. Nonetheless, he managed to walk up the beast`s back and onto the head, then do a small hop onto the outcropping. The beast`s weight soon grew too much for the platform to handle, however, and it crumbled, sending around a hundred people to their death. The beast, before it sunk all the way into the abyss, began to grow smaller, and soon lodged itself back into the man`s necklace, becoming a shiny blue orb once again. Hints of a smirk began to appear on the man`s face, but whatever was there soon dissapeared, and he followed Zachary`s trail into the next room. Zachary didn`t spend too much time glancing at the man, but did notice the tattoo of a faceless rabbit on his forehead.

The next room was a small corridor leading downwards. Two men were standing in the center, arguing.

"I`m saying we go that way!!" the first one said, pointing in the direction of Zachary and the old man. He had a cape on, long brown hair, and was carrying a short sword.

"And I say we go THAT way!" the other said, an elf, carrying a bow and arrow, pointing in the opposite direction. They were both blocking the way in the small corridor.

****

Theodarus noticed the sound growing larger, and looked upwards. A small goblin seemed to be. . .yes, the goblin was riding a large gorilla down the stairs, knocking people off like bowling pins. It was cackling with glee, but making sure to hold on well enough to keep the gorilla grounded against the wall side of the stairways.

"Good thing I brought along by pet Madonna! Isn`t that right, Madonna!" the goblin laughed, juggling himself on the gorilla`s body while it rolled and rolled.

If Theodaurus didn`t do anything fast, he too would become nothing more than another pin.

"Oh Great!" Theodarus thought, looking at the mismatched pair. He was already out of breath from the short jog, and there's no way he would be able to outmaneuver the gorilla even if he was fully rested. At least there's 20 seconds of charge in his brush, good for 2 words of power. But what words?

Obviously "Freeze", "Stop", "Die now" or anything else on the gorrilla was out of the question. The gorrilla had been slapping fully prepared people down the Void, people with swords and spears and what not. There was no way a person with a brush could get close to it. And judging by the two arrows sticking out of its body, the beast of an ape would probably ignore all but lethal injuries. What words, quickly now, what words.....

Inspration struck him. With a large elvish-looking flowing script, he wrote two words onto one of the wider steps. The gorrilla was almost onto him when he finished. He immediately started running downwards for all he's worth, desperately charging another word of power. After all, there was a chance the gorrilla would not step onto the bobby-trapped step.

The two words? "Trip Over"

(Theodarus activates 2 words of power. Details in his mind puts the words' ability as "Step that trip things over the edge (towards the void)")

"Erm, pardon me, sirs. Coming through? And... well, would you be so kind as to move? It would be somewhat uncomfortable and a just a bit kinky to try to force my way through. Oh, and sir? Our direction isn't the best, as it leads to... erm, well, not much, really. There used to be a platform covered with people, but they fell into an abyss after it broke."

Zachary looks apologetic and smiles in a schoolteacher-esque way. No malice or sarcasm, just... well, apology. He takes the time while he's waiting to retract his staff and put it into a pocket on the inside of his duster.

Adarl looked at the screaming man on the ground, then on his fellow bastard sword user. He should have been dead right then. Even with his abrupt change in surroundings, he cursed himself for reacting so slowly. The question was... why had this man helped him?

"...I am grateful, it would be foolish to feel otherwise. However."

Adarl kept one hand ready at the hilt of his sword, as he moved himself away from the man, and the screaming mess on the floor.

"I do not understand why you helped me. We are, after all, adversaries."

Fwupo immidiately stuck his hands and arms out, rather surprised at the changed in his surroundings, and hoping to stop his slide by bracing himself against the walls. Further thought could come later. His banjo dangled from its strap and banged against his body, much to the moogle's annoyance, but he would much rather get buffetted by it than loose the instrument.

Another, seperate part of his brain was reflecting that he hadn't gotten a chance to find out what that man with the bastard sword had ment when he talked about an accident...

(OOC: Sorry FFF, if I used your character a bit too much. I just didn`t want to leave you in the room there by yourself, that`s a bit too boring. But if you really didn`t want to follow him, I can edit this.)

Saffron ripped his blade through another fighter, dropping him to the ground, and turned back to Adarl. "You wield that blade, don`t you?" Saffron said, looking at the exit to make sure the room was clear. "Someone who wields such a sword has value in my book. Skilled bastard swordsmen are far and few between. I wish to duel with you. However, this chaotic setting is not fit for such a duel. Promise me you`ll make it to the final round, so we can have an epic duel." his eyes gleamed. "I`m really looking forward to it."

There were two openings out of the small circular room, and Saffron took the left exit. "Follow me." he said, continuing down the hallway. "We can`t get caught up in any more mindless battles. Even if we win, we would run out of time."

They continued down the hallway, Adarl a bit cautious of this swordsman. After a few minutes, the hallway opened up to a large square room, with a +-shaped pathway over a pit. The north exit was blocked by two men with black bandannas on, wearing leather armor. They each carried small knives.

Saffron moved to the center of the platform, and took no more than two steps before one of the bandannad men spoke.

"You must not go any further." they said. "You may as well begin finding your way out of the labyrinth now. We are members of the Devonshire Imperial Army, and 100 of our finest soldiers entered this contest as a team. Our goal is to block the exit, and disqualify everyone except for our own members. We are distractions, put here so to fight and waste others` times. We should, by this time, have every opening to the exit secured. I do not suggest you fight us. Even if you are more powerful than us, we will waste your time and disqualify you." the speaker, a middle-aged muscular man with a handlebar mustache, seemed very convinced of what he was saying. "We do not intend to be malicious. But it is imperative that the Devonshire Army claims this item. Please understand."

"Hmmm. . ." Saffron sighed, running a hand through his golden hair and turning around to Adarl. "What do you say, man? I`m a bit stumped."

****

"You serious?!" one of the men said, staring at Zachary. "Wait, you might be lying to trick us!"

"You idiot." the right man said. "He`s clearly telling the truth, otherwise, why would he be walking from that way in the first place?"

"You bet I am!" the right man said. "Ask me any question, I`ll tell you the correct answer!"

"Alright, alright, hold on, let me think . . ." the left man said.

The conversation was clearly going nowhere. Suddenly, Zachary noticed the bald man who had come up after him move ahead. He stood in front of the arguing men.

"Yeah, what do you want, old man!?" the right man shouted. "You got a problem too???"

The old man raised a large wooden staff, which he had been holding in his right hand, and rammed it into the left man`s stomach. He fell over and began coughing, and the old man stepped over him and continued down the tunnel.

The man began coughing and wiggling his body, trying to get his breath back. His friend/enemy bent over him. "Hey, you all right, man!?!" and Zachary was once again trapped in the catacombs.

*****

(OOC: wkz, you rock. I had set that situation up and I was hoping you would do that, and you did!! Very cool.)

The gorilla came barreling down towards Theodarus, who was busy hauling himself down the stone steps, trying not to fall off. As it hit the step Theodarus had marked, suddenly, the gorilla`s massive hands punched through the steps, and it jerked, sending it and the goblin tumbling off the edge and into the abyss. A gap about five steps wide was left in the stairway.

With that enemy gone, Theodarus was left in the silent spiral. He continued his way downward, and reached the bottom. He saw a bald, blind man sitting cross-legged at the base and muttering something. There was a hallway to the south, and he could hear the voices of some a person coughing rather violently, and another person screaming something.

****

Fwupo managed to brace himself in the chute`s walls, which were surprisingly easy to hold onto, being uneven stone bricks melded together. He could hear the sounds of a massive amount of people fighting up about, and could see blood, projectiles, and other various paraphenilia flying around above. Stuff was definitely getting rough up there.

As he just managed to get his breath back and formulate a plan, he heard the groan of a very large beast, which looked like a mix between a tiger and a man, which was backing up towards the hole. He heard the sound of a sword doing some cutting, and the next thing he knew, there was a tigerman smashed into the hole above him. The weight of the massive beast was not on him, because the beast`s girth was so wide that it took up the entire hole. The monster was groaning, and wiggling, trying to free itself. If Fwupo didn`t think fast, he would be smushed into a spiky grave.

****

At the end of the maze, the Devonshire Imperial Army had just secured what they believed to be the only openings to the exit.

"We`ll send 10 people into the exit." the commander, Jule Gregory stated. "This is just in case someone has already entered. I will be one of the 10. The remaining 90 soldiers will do their best to hold off all people from exiting the labyrinth. The plan is going well so far. Please do your best, and realize that even if you fail, the Devonshire Imperial Army has won."

Jule waved to 9 other men, and they entered the exit of the labyrinth, which, in reality, was a large steel room with a sealed door at the other side.

"There`s no one in here! Yes!! We made it, sir!" one man shouted.

"No, you`re wrong." Jule said, pointing to a far north corner. In that corner, stood a tall man with long black hair in a long black mantle, who seemed to be playing with a sort of puzzle. "I will approach him."

The man looked at the approaching lieutenant general with his ice blue eyes, and then turned them back to his puzzle.

"I am the leader of the Devonshire Imperial Army, Jule Gregory." he said, bowing. "I have led 99 of my finest men in here to claim the prize. I do not wish to battle you. However, I must tell you, that there is no way you can defeat all of our men and claim the prize. To apologize, I am giving you this information so that you can begin your escape, and hopefully salvage your life."

The man said nothing, and continued playing with his puzzle, uninterested.

". . .please answer." Jule stated, getting impatient.

The man did not comply.

". . .I did not want to do this." Jule said, unsheathing a long broadsword with fancy engravings. "So be it. Enguarde!" he said, arming himself and standing at attention. "Men, gather round!"

The puzzle in the man`s hands abruptly dissapeared, and his eyes once again turned to Jule`s. "I would advise you to not do that."

"I am armed." the man said, and suddenly, a large blade erupted from his chest, skewering Jule before he even knew what hit him.

"Wh. . .what. . ." the lieutenant general stared down at his wound, then back at the man. "You . . .how. . ." Jule Gregory, who had taken out 200 thieves by himself, acclaimed throughout Devonshire for his chivalry and courage, slumped to his knees and began to bleed to death.

Zachary takes a page from the old man's book and whacks the other man over the head with his staff while the man bends over his fallen compatiot. For good measure, he throws a few kicks at the two people on the ground to make sure they stay there. After (hopefully) dismantling them, he quickly takes off down in the direction that the monk just headed, his swift jog easily sustained but very, very loud. As he jogs away, he yells back, behind him:
"I'm sorry about this, but there's just no time! Have a pleasant afternoon!"

Adarl looked at the two men, silent for a moment. Then a smirk spread across his lips, as he let out a soft chuckle.

"I see... so in a contest where neartly a thousands men seek to end our lives, we are supposed to be more concerned about your group?" he spoke to two men with a smirk, turning to look at Saffron.

"I have a suggestion for what we can do." he told his companion for the time being, as he drew his blade and held it before him, "Let us see how well these two fools fight without their 'mighty' friends to back them up."

Zachary left the two arguing men on the ground, (now whimpering) and finally left the small hallway. What he came face-to-face with next, was a man who had previously been fleeing down the stairs from a gorilla/goblin combo, otherwise known as Mr. Theodarus Banjo. The room itself was a large void, the only way up being a spiral staircase around the wall of the cylindrical room, which seemed to be missing a few steps. Also, at the base of the stairway, was the bald man from earlier, now sitting and mumbling something to himself.

****

"I told you." handlebar-mustache spoke. "Our goal is not to win or lose. It is simply to waste your time and disqualify you." he pulled out two small daggers, while his partner armed himself with a sling and some rocks. "You are going along with our plan perfectly, and I thank you for it."

Saffron smirked, once again unsheathing his first bastard sword. "Well, we tried to reason with them, didn`t we?" he chuckled. "I just hope you can get us out of here on time, chief."

Handlebar mustache parried Adarl`s attack with both knives, crossed together to create a barrier for the large bastard sword. "Get `im, Varth!" he shouted, and said man began spinning the sling, aiming for Adarl`s head.

"Got ya covered!" Saffron shouted, dashing wildly at Varth, his bastard sword slicing the sling to pieces. The man backed up and began forming a fireball in his hands.

"Oh, so you`re a magic user. . ." Saffron chuckled. "This should be a cinch then." he began moving towards Varth.

Handlebar continued to struggle with Adarl. "I`m not going to move." he laughed. "Varth will keep your friend busy. Congratulations! You just failed the tournament!" he cackled.

"Oh... erm, greetings! Is there anything all that interesting up that staircase?"
Zachary smiles the smile of someone who is trying to get someone else to part with information they may or may not know is important.

"Well, it isn't necessarily a dead end, though I think a bottomless pit might qualify as such. Is there a dead end up that staircase as well? If so, we're trapped, I think. Though that man most likely has some more amazing skills that he hasn't used- he's quite something."
Zachary smiles and looks at the staircase.
"*Sigh* They strictly forbade us from "Cheating", so I think breaking down the walls isn't an option. Then again, we're headed to a tower, and up isn't necessarily a bad thing, is it?"

"We shall see..." Adarl muttered, quickly pulling himself back, sword crossed before his chest. Then with a burst of speed, he charged forward, intending to slam the sword right into the dagger wielding man.

As Theodarus and Zachary stood contemplating their next move, one of the old man`s orbs began to glow, and flew from his neck into the abyss. A few moments later, a mid-sized dragon rose up from the darkness. The old man made a flying leap onto the dragon`s back, and it soared up to the top of the stairway.

At around the same time, the two men who had been arguing earlier in the small passageway seemed to have cast away their differences, because instead of arguing, the only sound that could be heard was metal chipping away at stone.

Aside from that, the chamber was unusually quiet.

****

Adarl`s blade rushed forward, smashing through one of handlebar`s knives. Although that slowed it down a bit, it did not fail to cut through the leather armor and stick itself into the man`s stomach. He did not seem to be fazed. "I will not let go." he smiled. "A worthy sacrifice for the sake of the world."

Meanwhile, Varth continuing charging the fireball, which now seemed to be around the size of a large bowling ball. He raised it and punted it like a volleyball towards Saffron, who swiftly dodged it. The fireball went flying backwards, but suddenly, turned a complete 180-degree turn without losing any momentum, and came speeding back at Saffron.

"Ah, I see. . ." he said. "Your specialty is homing magic. . ." he said, running towards Varth. "Well I`ve dealt with this stuff before, later dude!" he jumped over Varth, intending for the fireball to smack into its caster, but it did not. Varth quickly pushed his right hand up, which caused the fireball to speed upwards and over the man`s head.

It continued to chase Saffron down the hallway. "Thanks man!" he shouted. "See you in the next competition!"

"Ah. . ." Varth suddenly gasped, falling to his knees. "I. . .I let him get away." he gripped a fist together, and then turned to Adarl. "I see. . .well, I will not make the same mistake again." he said, and began charging two fireballs, aiming them at the last target in the room.

"Why didn't I think of that? Up it is. Tah, sir!"
Zachary then begins to charge up the stairs with surprising speed. It isn't astounding or amazing, just surprising. He then jogs up the stairs, thus far encountering no problems.

....until, that is, he comes across the large gap in which the gorilla that Theodarus offed had punched out a few steps. Five, to be exact. Normally, such a distance would be no trouble for a normal living creature to jump across, except this stairway was not only extremely steep, but also curved. Some sort of wings or propulsion device would be needed to clear the dangerous pit.

"This distance isn't quite as long as the one I needed to do with the platform, but then again this is sort of curved and I don't think running into the walls is much of an option. Plus I don't think I can be that precise without spending at least an hour making calculations, which is time I don't have."

Zachary chews the inside of his cheek, thinking while trying to figure out a solution.

"Well, it wouldn't be so hard if I nullified gravity around me for a bit, though then I'd have no way to stop. So I'd fly right into a wall. And I don't know if I can nullify gravity on the spot anyway. Using what I have, I can't get anywhere. And that might equate to death. So, let's run over what I need to do in my head before I give it a try...
"I think if I create a sphere or a tunnel of zero gravity by nullifying it, I can then gently float myself over there. Though if I ever LEAVE the sphere, then I'll start to fall... and the sphere, being agravitic instead of antigravitic wouldn't do a damn thing to keep me from falling. Of course, if I figure out how to do this NOW, then it might come in handy later. Now, how should I arrange the forces so this works? Let's see..."
And so Zachary goes about arranging the work, enjoying the process of solving what is, in truth, a fairly complex physics problem.

"Dammt, can that mark really RUN" Theodarus thought as the gap in the stairway came into view, all too aware in his lack of stamina. He took in deep gulps of air, trying to replace all the oxygen he had lost in teh dash up. There is no way Theodarus Banjo, Bounty Hunter, is going to loose his mark twice, especially with the dinner bowl at stake...

Still, they have to get out of this deathtrap somehow. And doing so apparently required them to span this gap in the stairs. Finally recovered from trying to take in more air than his lungs could support, he said, "Hey, you got anything that we can use? I can make my writing pad..." he took out a metallic pad as long as the length of his arm and half as wide, with a clip on the left, a hole cut for a handle on the top, and having a sharp edge on the right. " .... make my writing pad float for a while, but with the time limit and the two of us, I can only charge it enough to go halfway. At least it'll be shorter, and we would have line-of-sight to the other end......"

"Shhh... I'm trying to work out the mathematics of creating a sphere of antigravitational force that would allow someone to glide easily across the hole and yet land safely on the other side where the forcelessness ceases. It's an interesting though perplexing problem, and I really don't want to try using any form of Chaos Manipulation without safety gear. Besides, Chaos Manipulation is cheating. I guess we're limited in time, though. So... let's see how this would resolve if the variables were to be derived (etc. etc.)"

He goes back to his train of thought. Apparently the manipulation of the curvature of space is something that requires a lot of thought in order to do correctly.

Internal Monologue: "If I can increase the force behind a single action, I should be able to increase the force in another way to nullify the force that's giving me gravity. Hmm... though, how should I apply this force? And how much? Oh, if only there were a thaumic measure of the gravitational pull!"

(OOC: Post as to whether or not Zachary can figure out a way to make it work. He'll only act if he can figure out HOW to act.)

Adarl watched as the other swordsman disappeared down the hall, sighing to himself. While he had expected such treachery to occur eventually, he was still somewhat disappointed at how soon it happened. Still, he had more immediate concerns. Namely, the magic user about to turn him into a giant torch.

The half-drow places a foot onto his impaled foe, giving a hard tug and kick to try and dislodge his sword. He stood no chance as long as his weapon stayed in the man's stomach.

Fwupo began shimmying upwards towards the now blocked hole at the top. He didn't have a clear idea of what he was planning to do just yet, but he knew he had to do something, and getting away from the pointiness at the bottom of the pit seemed like an excellent place to start at.

As he moved, a rough plan began forming. If he could grab the whatever-it-was at the top of the hole and drag it around sideways, making a gap he could squeeze through, he might be able to shove himself out of the hole and drop the overlarge beast down onto the spikes as well. Two birds with one stone. It wasn't much of a plan, especially considering how he had his doubts about his ability to move that much mass by himself, but it was something...

(OOC: Zachary and Theodarus, I didn't know if you wanted me to post yet. If you do, just edit your post with a OOC tag. I didn't think you were done yet though.)

Fwupo pushed as hard as he could on the side of the large beast. Lucky for him, the idiotic monster was pushing as well. Combined between both of their strengths, and Fwupo's gymnastics ability, the monster began to slide to the right and fall parallel down the hole. Fwupo never did find out if it knew what was happening to it. Anyway, after a bloodcurdling monster scream, Fwupo managed to climb out of the hole into the melee.

There were people everywhere, crowding the room like a concert hall. Swords, spears, bows, you name it, everything was flying about. People were also being thrown down the holes left and right, some were even filled up so much that there were bodies just sandwiched into the chamber. Directly close to Fwupo was an archer and a swordsman, the latter chasing the former. A small boy also stood in the corner, smirking. He had slicked back brown hair, and was wearing what seemed to be a private university uniform. He had his hands in his pockets and was grinning.

Suddenly a pig-faced amazoness and her partner, what seemed to be a female ogre, turned their heads and stared at Fwupo.

"Awww, he's so cute! one shouted.

"Let's catch 'im and eat 'im! the other said, excitedly.

****

Adarl kicked the man backwards, ripping his sword from the stomach. Handlebar had tried to hold on, but to no avail. However, Adarl was not out of danger yet. As handlebar lay on the ground in pain, Varth finished charging the fireballs.

Adarl could run forward, following Saffron, but if he stepped back a bit, there were also two hallways to the left and right, and also the pathway backwards the way he came. However, if he began running around recklessly, he would risk falling into the four pits scattered between the pathways.

Adarl's options were limited. He could chase after his former 'comrade', or choose another path. However, that still left the troublesome problem of the twin balls of flaming death hurling after him. Even if he could outrun them, he had no idea what he could be running into. Anything impeding his path would certainly lead to disaster. His only other option was...

...it was a long shot, but it had just as much chance of success as the others.

Adarl readied his blade, carefully watching the approaching speed of the two fireballs. When the time is right, he tries to strike quickly, hoping he can time his strikes just right to deflect them.

"Wh-wha-kupo?" The moogle exclaimed. He had absolutely no desire to be caught, or eaten, so he settled on what seemed like the most likely method for avoiding both fates. He bolted quickly across the room, dancing around holes and, in an inspired moment, attempted to dodge between the archer and sword weilder, hoping to put the two of them between himself and his female antagonists. He headed more or less in the direction of the smiling schoolboy, who seemed to have the best handle on the situation at the moment.